Songs of the Sea by Raiyana

A Change in the Music

Part 4

Uinen continues watching, even as her attention is taken mostly with the charge that has been laid on her, ensuring that the Seas – everchanging, yet ever-constant – are cared for. She cannot leave Núramartan[1] untended, the currents disturbed by the submerging of Beleriand still need guidance and care. Mostly, she remains in the Deep, currents running through her veins as the Seas move, but sometimes she sends her eyes to Singer’s Cove on a wave, or her ears carried on the wings of a frigate bird hovering above her singer, out of sight, but still in range of the music. On the shore of Singer’s Cove, her singer continues to make his laments, ripping his heart out for each one he has lost, the melodies floating away across the waves. She keeps trying to fight the Oath when he journeys into the waters, though her efforts are hampered by distance; she can spare only small tendrils of power, and the Oath struggles to free itself from her grasp, making more sticky thread to tie itself to Maglor’s fëa. Instead of washing it away, as she tried the first time, however, Uinen carefully wraps strands of her own power around the darkness, biding her time; Ulmo will not be gone forever, and when the Oath becomes complacent with her presence, she will strike, patient as a moray waiting for its prey to swim by.

Sometimes, she borrows the shape of one of the creatures of the Sea, coming up close; sometimes, he speaks to her in these shapes, but he does not know she watches and she still does not know how to tell him, the promise she made his mother lingering unfulfilled in the back of her mind.

The first herald of the decision that has been made in the Council is imperceptible to anyone whose soul was not involved in the Song that gave Eru’s theme form and shape, and Uinen hardly dares believe it at first. Staring towards Aman, her agitation spreads through the water, the creatures of the sea reacting to her mood; birds take flight, calling loudly, fish swarm, predators forget their hunger for a moment, calling in confusion to each other and to Uinen, who hears none of it.

She knows what has happened, knows what the Council has decided, what they have done, and at once she is elated and horrified, joyous and melancholy. Leaving Núramartan, pulling herself back from every corner of the world, she waits for the inevitable backlash. Changing the Music like this; the note is deep and sets her soul afire in ways that are both disturbing and pleasant.

The parts of her that have wrapped around the singer’s fëa remain tied to him, even as she feels a surge of Change spread across Arda, and almost unthinkingly, she strikes, her surprise making her pull her power tight, washing around and through the accursed dark stickiness of the Oath, and when she opens her eyes once more, the Music is changed and the Oath with it, her powers having washed away much of the stickiness. She can’t remove its grasp, not entirely, part of the fëa that anchors it doesn’t want to lose it, but she thinks he might be able to teach himself to ignore it now, might be able to mute the call of the Silmaril.

Wrapping her arms around Ulmo, offering silent support and understanding when he flows through the doors of Núramartan, Uinen still finds a moment to ask a raven that has learned the Common speech of Dwarrow and Edain to lend her its wings. When Ulmo lays down, his head resting in her lap as she sings a lullaby, part of her mind is gliding on the wind far above. The gulls that screeched out her agitation still flock above the waves – they won’t settle again, for some time, feeling the uneasiness of the seas – as she wings her way towards Singer’s Cove, studying her singer through the raven’s eyes.

“What was that?” he asks, laughing – she has not heard him laugh before, but she thinks she likes the sound – confusion painted on his features as he stares across the seas.

“The Enemy is gone,” she replies in the raven’s croak, making him whirl to face her, taking a step to block her from reaching the Silmaril. Uinen wonders if she could simply take it; would he fight for it, now, when the sticky darkness has thinned, diminished in strength?

“What do you mean, he’s gone? The Enemy is one of the Valar.  He can’t be killed,” he tells her, frowning. “He was defeated and chained after Thangorodrim was broken. He is a prisoner of Mandos, as he was before. What more is there to do with him?”

“Well, hark at you, the expert on the Ainur,” she replies waspishly, bending her head to scratch at the itchy feathers along her leg.

“Very well then, master Raven,” her singer replies, smiling.  “I am a mere foolish elf with no wisdom to match yours, it seems. Will you enlighten me?”

“The Valar have thrust him through the Doors of Night, beyond the Walls of the World, into the Timeless Void,” she says, wanting to laugh, for a moment tempted to take her own form just to see what he would say then, but refrains.

“They can do that?” Astonished gawking – she expected that, feeling pleased that she can speak to him properly in this form, wondering if she should obtain a few Ravens for the purpose, but equally certain that Manwë wouldn’t approve.

“They have done it.” Tilting her head, she looks at the shining light of the Silmaril. Her singer draws his sword, this time, making an emphatic shooing motion with his free hand. Perhaps not yet time to test her work, Uinen thinks, and better left to her own physical form, just in case. The Raven is innocent, after all, and does not deserve to be caught between her will and the will of the Oath.

“Shoo!” her singer exclaims, his eyes a curious dark colour; she so rarely sees him this close.

“Oh, very well!” she says, annoyed, releasing the Raven to its own will and returning to herself in Núramartan.

Singing softly, she cards her fingers through Ulmo’s hair, soothing the heartsickness she feels in him with her voice. Several new molluscs are born of the sound, but Uinen does not notice, for once keeping her attention entirely on herself and her surroundings, letting the currents of the Sea continue to flow in the patterns she has so carefully constructed. Ossë returns, joining the song, and together they try to comfort Ulmo.

[1] Deep-dwelling – Ulmo’s home beneath the Sea where all currents are controlled and where the voices of waters across Arda can be heard.